David V. Pynadath
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I am a Computer Scientist at the USC Institute for Creative Technologies. But I have a confession to make: I don’t like computers. Now, I’m not one of those elitists who look down on computers just because of their immense stupidity. After all, if my computer had any natural intelligence, I’d be out of a job. And he has proven to be occasionally useful at performing menial tasks, like database queries and Web hosting. But I find myself constantly infuriated by my computer’s complete failure as a friend, due to his deeply entrenched inability to grasp the fine points of social intercourse.

I once asked my computer, “How many people would get upset if I—” “42,” he interrupted. Incredulous, I asked, “How’d you come up with that answer? You didn’t even let me finish!” He shrugged, “Does it matter? Just trust me.” I warily asked, “How do I know that you’re right?” He sighed, “How would you know if I’m wrong?” His cynicism and hubris get on my nerves after a while.

But there are also times when he becomes inconveniently modest about his capabilities. One day, I asked for some help getting out of a jam with a man-eating tiger. Instead, I got a lot of foot dragging. He first tells me, “There’re over 6×1014 possible policies.” I said, “What?!” He insisted, “It would take me almost 20 million years to find the best answer.” I started to get annoyed, “Just make a guess!” He glanced uneasily around and said, “Even with the best policy, my expected utility would still be negative.” Exasperated, I broke down, “C’mon, we’re a team!” But he was having none of it and left me to fend for myself.

While recovering in the hospital, I had time to reflect on his behavior, and I began to suspect a sinister purpose. Call me paranoid, but I recognize a plot when I see one. You may think it’s unlikely that my computer is out to get me, but it’s enough of a possibility for me to be on my guard. You would be wise to be similarly vigilant.

Email: pynadath@ict.usc.edu